Damas the Channeler
by InvisibleJediMaster
Summary: Damas, as a channeler like all members of the House of Mar, is more resilient than average and, after a brief comatose reprieve that Jak thought was death, escapes the vehicle trapping him and returns to Spargus, just in time to see Precursors' depart.


As Damas came to, he wondered why he was soaking wet. He pondered this for several minutes before a nagging feeling came to the forefront of his mind and he realized that he was also in some rather significant pain. His abdomen felt compressed and his left leg might be broken. He couldn't feel his right leg, and that worried him.

How did he come to be in such a state?

Damas opened his eyes to see dark clouds overhead. A light, misting rain was falling, light enough that he couldn't feel the drops. A large metal structure loomed over him and broken stone construction was in the periphery of his vision. He looked up at the metal structure and realized that he was partially under one of his desert vehicles; the roll-cage was the source of his abdominal pain.

From what he could see, his right leg seemed fine, albeit bent at a strange angle. His left leg was bloody, so he wasn't sure where the wound was, and there was also a sharp rock next to it.

Wondering why the roll-cage hadn't crushed him completely, he looked in more detail at what was now the underside of the vehicle and saw a large, squat rock propping it up from a reinforced corner of the bars.

Damas relaxed back onto the ground to think. How much time had passed since the crash? And what had happened? Hadn't he been with someone? Where was the other person? The clue came when he realized that he was in Haven City and that he'd come across the desert to save Jak, the only hope of defending against the Day Star and Erol, who hoped to use the Dark Precurian technology it would bring.

He and Jak had been ambushed by a Dark Maker thing and the explosion had flipped the vehicle and thrown him partially from it. Jak and Daxter were gone, probably for a while. They didn't know he was a channeler, after all, and wouldn't have known that his body had shut down into a comatose recovery state to use the slight green eco reserves that were constantly present within him. Though it was a state that seemed like death, he hadn't actually died.

But Damas would become as dead as they thought he had been if he didn't get out from under the vehicle. He was cold and wet and wounded, conditions that were bad on their own but much worse when combined.

Damas looked at the rock propping up the vehicle again. Then he looked around for more rocks that were within reach that he could use to prop up the vehicle higher. At first he saw nothing suitable, but then there was a jagged, vaguely rectangular, flat rock about two fingers thick. His fingers caught one side of it when he stretched his arm to grab it and in a minute had the thing dragged around and to the other rock. He wedged it under the bar and, after several shoves, had the vehicle propped up higher.

As he relaxed back for a few moments again, his abdomen immediately felt better. Damas judged he possibly had enough room now to wiggle out from under his vehicle. He progressed a few inches and then became stuck again, but he saw another rock, wider than the first, that was now within reach and grabbed for it. Eventually he'd wedged it under the bar and used it to replace the previous stone, which loosened and fell to the ground.

Now he had enough room and he immediately escaped the tight squeeze the heavy desert vehicle had put him under.

Still unable to stand, he instead examined his wounds and discovered they were not as bad as they had seemed. There was a lot of blood, but it had been leaking freely for a while from a would that was smaller than the blood had implied. There was very little bleeding now, though his movement had dislodged some of the fresh scabbing and started the flow anew. As for the unfeeling right leg, as soon as he straightened it it began to prickle painfully all the way down it's length. It had been asleep and was fine. Though those particular pains were small, Damas couldn't help twitching every few moments while he waited until the leg was usable again.

It had started raining again by the time Damas had regained most of the movement of his right leg. He stood up slowly, leaning against a nearby rock to test his wounded left leg. It wasn't broken, but putting weight on it hurt. He couldn't do anything about it now and looked for his personal beacon instead. Immediately he saw it crushed and broken beneath part of the roll cage.

He'd have to get back to his city the hard way.

So he set off, limping heavily at first but gaining strength as he walked, and wound his way out of the destroyed Haven Arena. Eventually, after reaching an area that people had recently inhabited, he looted an empty house and found a ragged blanket that he used to cloak himself to remain unrecognized.

Recalling Haven's layout, its dethroned ruler walked to the nearest transport location he remembered. He remembered multiple locations, but all the transports were missing until he found one all the way down at the ports.

Damas did not enjoy walking through the broken city, as he could remember it in its past glory, and was relieved when he finally boarded the transport and was flying away.

During the ride, Damas thought of the mission he'd been on with Jak and Daxter. He couldn't recall all of it, and details were foggy. Jak was trying to get to the Precursors underground, but they'd stopped after breaking through all the Dark Makers and Metal Heads infesting the area. Then they were ambushed by another one, and there was the explosion, and he was wounded, and then he saw Veger approaching but ignored him. He told Jak something, something he thought was important enough to ignore Veger for. What was so important that he'd . . . ? His son. He was giving Jak the mission to find Mar, the same mission he'd given Sig shortly after Mar had been kidnapped. He thought he'd been dying, since his channeler abilities had only saved him once before and he didn't have precedent for what he could survive and what he could not. Finally, he'd blacked out as Jak stared at him in shock.

Deep in his own thoughts, Damas did not notice when the transport landed outside Spargus. The guard-driver's voice roused his attention and Damas stood and walked down the entry ramp and onto familiar sand. In the distance, the desert looked rather strange, and there was a strange ruin of a large machine, but he put the thoughts from his mind to ponder later, more concerned for his city. One simple thing he was glad of was that it wasn't overcast like in Haven.

Upon walking through the cities outer gate and into the vehicle parking area, Damas noticed two things; one, Sig's favorite Metal-Head-hunting ride was present, which was unusual but not overly so; and two, there was a Haven City Hellcat also parked off to the side. How had that gotten here? He added that to the thoughts to consider later.

Spargus itself seemed deserted. Sure there were a few tied leapers around, and plenty of smaller creatures, but all the long-eared residents of the desert city seemed to have vanished. As he ventured further, he heard a great hum, which probably came form the arena. If everyone was there, that would explain the noise, but what was occurring that the entire city would attend? Damas doubted it could even fit everyone at once.

The closer he came to the arena, the louder the noise became, until his theory that everyone was at the arena was confirmed. Ignoring the main entrance, Damas passed it by and instead veered toward the smaller entrance that would normally admit himself and anyone he chose to stand with him. He moved off to the side again, taking the unoccupied and inconspicuous platform that monks usually used and stayed in the shadows to see what was occurring that was so important.

A large Precursor ship floated in the center of the arena, and in front of the entrance were three ottsels. Apparently, the Precursors were ottsels, Damas realized with a sudden shock. And, as Damas listened to the conversation, they were inviting Jak to leave on the ship with them.

Jak responded by telling them to address him by his original name, the one given by his father. Damas was temporarily confused by this because Jak had told him, countless days ago, that he had never known his father. Besides, having an original name implied that Jak wasn't his original name. So he probably found out recently. Then his mind had caught up with the last word Jak had said, the name Jak's father had called him; Mar. Jak's real name was Mar? But that was his son's name. And how had Jak even discovered his father's identity? How long had Damas been unconscious for this to happen?

Damas continued watching the ceremony, staying in the shadows to observe without interrupting. He noticed there were a few unfamiliar Havenites on the primary platform, including Ashelin Praxis, the likely owner of the Hellcat cruiser. Sig was on Damas's throne which, considering they all thought he was dead, Damas saw as a good choice.

When the ship finally rose into the sky, Damas noticed Jak sneak around behind Daxter and the ottsel Tess, unnoticed by them all.

Damas realized he was still wearing the cloaking blanket and shed it as the citizens in the arena began leaving and the people on the main platforms spoke briefly amongst themselves.

As Damas watched, Jak's expression saddened and he started talking about needing a funeral for his father. Though Damas couldn't see what the object was, Jak held something shiny in his hands that he appeared to focus on when mentioning his father. Sig just watched with that happy-sad expression on his face. Ashelin and Seem, with another vaguely familiar guard that wasn't wearing a uniform, spoke amongst themselves of Jak and Mar.

The arena was about half empty when they decided to leave. Ashelin noticed Damas first, as he was standing in the door to the platform they occupied, and she froze in shock and then recognition. Seem made a hand-sign of recognition as Damas withdrew to the back area where everyone would gather.

Ashelin, Seem, and Torn--Damas remembered the man's name when he turned around and his face was visible--followed him immediately.

"You're still alive!?" The baroness seemed overly surprised.

"The explosion didn't hit me as hard as I thought, and I survived." Seem didn't look surprised at these words, but a high-ranking monk, she also knew about Damas's channeling abilities and had even been the one to explain that they were they reason he had survived the last seemingly mortal wound he'd suffered.

Sig's group appeared second. "Damas!" the wastelander cried in joy--as much as a wastelander would make such an expression, anyway. "Jak said you'd died. How'd you survive?"

"You know of my abilities as a member of the House of Mar; that is the reason."

"Of course. That makes sense."

"Abilities?" Ashelin inquired to Seem, but she was ignored as Sig roared for Jak to come to him.

Jak ran to Sig's side, suddenly worried there was some emergency, but was struck speechless as he opened his mouth to ask what was wrong and then saw his father apparently whole and alive instead of cold and dead beneath his vehicle.

Damas saw that the object Jak was holding was the Seal of Mar he'd given the man to recognize his son by.

Daxter, as always, filled the silence. "But you . . . you were . . . the explosion and you . . . how are you still alive!?" He said this all quickly, and the broken sentences made it obvious that he couldn't decide which thought to voice.

"Members of the House of Mar have always had a few special abilities," Damas said again, "and we are not easy to kill."

Daxter looked Jak up and down. "Well, that explains a lot," he commented. "Abilities like channeling, right?"

"How did you know that?" Damas had never mentioned channeling in the presence of either Jak or Daxter.

"Well, Jak here," Daxter punched Jak's leg to try and get him out of his frozen shock, "can channel." Damas already knew that Jak could channel dark and light eco, but that would only make him a sage, if he could master himself sufficiently. "Jak is also of the House of Mar. Therefore, his special abilities are likely yours, since he got them from you."

"How would he have gotten them from me? Though his name is also Mar, he is far too old to be my son, who is still just a child."

"That's where it gets interesting!" Daxter shot up to Jak's shoulder. Jak, who was paying attention again, looked at his friend. "You mind if I tell the story, buddy?"

"Go ahead." Jak fiddled with the Seal in his hands as he listened to Daxter and closely watched Damas.

"It all started in a little sea-side village called Sandover. Do you know about Sandover?"

"Yes, but that was the village where Haven City is now. It hasn't existed for a very long time."

"So you do know about Sandover. Sandover is where Jak and I grew up. I used to be normal, you know, but one day someone," Daxter pointedly nudged Jak's head, "decided to go explore Misty Island and I fell into a tub of eco and turned into Orange Lightning!"

With this introduction, Daxter proceeded to tell the entire story from the beginning of the adventure in Sandover, to coming to the future, to sending the Heir back to the past, and then to meeting Damas. Daxter skipped over a large portion of the adventure just concluded, since Damas already knew what happened for that one, and focused again on Damas's supposedly final words and the mission for Jak.

"And you hand him the Seal and, well, we thought you were dead."

"Do you have the other Seal?" Damas asked after the silence of a finished story. "The one my young son wore and you said gave to Jak?"

"Of course we still have it!" Daxter said, indignant.

Jak pulled up the second seal from under his jacket where he'd constantly worn it after attaching a longer leather string so he could.

Damas broke the silence next time, after a longer pause.

"I regret missing so many years of my son's life, and that I could not watch him grow, but I am very glad indeed that he has become such a fine warrior and a son that a father can be proud of."

"Look, Jak, he likes you!" Daxter said in his dorky manner.

Damas continued, as if Daxter hadn't spoken, "It is difficult to believe, but I am glad all the same."

"Please, my King, you are wounded," Seem broke into the conversation.

"Indeed! I had forgotten, with this new discovery. Let us go together, and I will tell you my side of this story."

"Hey, Jak," Daxter asked, "does this mean you're a prince?"

Damas laughed. "Prince Jak Mar of the House of Mar! Yes, that is your title!"

"That's a bit of a mouthful there, King Damas," Sig addressed.

Damas clapped Jak on the back to get him moving forward with him. Everyone followed him as Damas headed forward to seek proper medical attention. His Seal of Mar, the one tied around his neck, fell from his fingers to hang freely from his neck in open view of anyone who might look.


End file.
